


quicksilver lullabies

by EzzyDean



Series: summer heat [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6539068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyDean/pseuds/EzzyDean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma prefers to stay quiet.  That doesn't mean he needs silence in his life.  Nishinoya seems to understand that sometimes you can say a lot without talking much at all.  </p><p>(Though that doesn't stop him from talking, like, all the time.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	quicksilver lullabies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretMaker (sacredkind)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SecretMaker+%28sacredkind%29).



All Kenma wants to do is grab some hair dye and some snacks before he goes home and hides for the rest of the weekend.  He has his snacks tucked into his elbow and is debating between two shades of blond - why he doesn’t know, since he rarely pays much attention anyway but if he gets a different shade than usual he’ll have to grab an extra box since his hair is so long now - when he hears an ominous muttering coming from a few feet away.  

He glances from the dark head of hair up to the brightly colored dyes above the person and then focuses back on his own selection with the tiny niggling of curiosity over whether or not the person realizes that they’ll need to bleach their hair before trying any of the wild colors displayed in front of them if they really want the colors to stick well.  The muttering increases in volume and then stops as the person glances over their shoulder at Kenma.  He’s about to grab his usual color choice since less money on dye means more money on snacks and that new game he’s been thinking about buying when the other person in the aisle spins towards him, a box of dye in each hand.

“Which color do you think?”

Kenma does not squeak in surprise at suddenly being the focus of this stranger’s attention, and loud voice, but it’s a near thing.  So is dropping all the snacks he has tucked against him.  His eyes flicker between the two boxes, one red and the other purple, and then up to the blonde patch of hair nearly falling into the stranger’s eyes.  Eyes that are locked onto Kenma with an intensity that frightens him a little.  Aren’t you supposed to be a little less… explosively vibrant when talking to strangers?

“Um, I’m not sure,” he answers softly, tucking a few loose strands of hair from his bun behind his ear nervously.  He just wanted to grab his hair dye and go home, not help a stranger make what appears to be a monumental decision in their life.  He inches towards the blond dyes as the stranger shifts the boxes into one hand and pouts down at his phone, muttering something about dumb best friends not responding in his time of crisis.

“Aw no opinion at all?”  Kenma’s hand wavers between the two choices again as that intense stare settles on him.  “Maybe blue?”  The stranger mutters to himself as he glances over his shoulder back to the display of bright boxes behind him.  Kenma takes the chance to grab two boxes of the slightly brighter blond shade before shuffling quickly towards the end of the aisle.

“I think the red one would suit you,” Kenma says.  His voice is just loud enough to carry down the aisle and he’s rewarded for his uncharacteristic sharing of his opinion to a stranger with a bright smile that makes him feel a little like he’s basking in the late evening sun before he turns on his heels and hurries to checkout.

 

 

A week later he’s back in the store near the stationery with a list of supplies his boss needs him to pick up when an almost familiar cry reaches his ears and he looks up, startled yet again, into a pair of sparkling brown eyes that look far too happy to see him considering the person they belong to has only ever had one encounter with him.

“Look!”  Nimble fingers play with the bright bangs nearly hanging in his eyes and Kenma immediately recognizes the red as his suggestion from a week ago.  “It looks totally awesome, right?”

Kenma holds back his reflexive response of simply agreeing to look closer and he realizes that it really does look good on the stranger.  The red doesn’t seem as harsh against the dark hair as Kenma would have thought and it makes his brown eyes stand out even more when he tilts his head and grins at Kenma.

“It does look good.”  His eyes drop to the shirt the stranger is wearing and he can’t help but ask.  “Did you match your shirt to your hair on purpose?”

The stranger glances down with a confused frown and then bursts out laughing.

“Does it sound better or worse if I say I did?”

Kenma eyes the black sweatshirt with bright red lettering.   _ Fearless _ .

“Honestly?  I’m not sure.”

He laughs again, eyes brightening when Kenma huffs out a quiet laugh as well.

“I’m Noya, by the way.  Nishinoya Yuu.”

“Kenma.”  He’s a little surprised by how readily he responds to the stranger - Noya, he reminds himself.  “Kozume Kenma.”

“So, Kenma,” Noya says easily as he steps up beside him.  “What brings you here on this fine day?”

Kenma eyes the umbrella hanging from his wrist and then glances towards the front of the store where the rain is still, unfortunately, pouring down before settling his gaze somewhere near the edge of the paper in his hand.

“I have to pick up some stuff for my boss.”

“Sounds exciting.”  Noya laughs when Kenma’s eyes dart to him, obviously not believing him.  “I’m just killing time.”  He answers the question Kenma didn’t even ask.  “Hoping the rain lets up a bit so I don’t drown on my way back.”  Kenma nods and turns his attention to his list.  He’s not trying to dismiss Noya or be rude.  He just needs to get back to the shop before his boss has to leave.  And he’s not exactly the most talkative person in general.

It doesn’t seem to bother Noya at all though.  He seems content to talk to Kenma, who does nod along and offer the occasional one or two word reply to show he’s listening, without really expecting him to hold any particular part of the conversation.  It’s something that people who have known Kenma for years sometimes don’t fully understand.  He walks with Kenma through the aisles, even offers to carry Kenma’s basket which Kenma declines since even in this short amount of time he’s already seen how often Noya seems to talk with wide, energetic gestures and the last thing Kenma wants is to pick up all the stuff he’s grabbed from the floor.

By the time he pays and gets ready to head back to work Kenma feels like he knows everything that’s happened to Noya in the last few weeks.  It’s exhausting but when he shakes his umbrella out and slips into the front door at the shop he realizes he actually didn’t mind it much.  He’s not sure if that or the fact that Noya even remembered him in the first place is more surprising to him.

 

 

Three days later, despite having worn proper gear and taking an umbrella with him, Kenma is suffering the early stages of a disgusting cold.  Namely he’s at the part where he is sluggish and irritable and has a headache that has been hovering at the edge between throbbing and pulsing with each sudden movement and loud noise he encounters.  Which really sucks when you work at a shop that sells things like music and video games and actually attracts a fair amount of business.  Thankfully a lot of the business today has been regulars so they’re used to Kenma’s bouts of feeling less that sociable while working and most had gone on their way without even bothering Kenma for more than just picking up what they ordered or were looking for and paying.

His eyes narrow when he hears a now-familiar excited voice floating from the bookcases near the back and getting closer.

“Are you stalking me or something?”

The surprised look on Noya’s face would make him laugh, maybe not out loud but at least internally, if he wasn’t feeling so miserable right now.  He can practically hear Kuro’s voice chastising him in his mind for being so rude.  But he doesn’t care today and Noya doesn’t seem to even notice the tone, or take offense at it.

He calls out Kenma’s name excitedly and Kenma winces at the volume.

“Gotta go,” Noya murmurs and Kenma watches as he hangs up his phone and slides it into his pocket.  “You okay Kenma?”  He reaches out towards Kenma’s forehead and Kenma jerks back on reflex.  Noya freezes and holds his hands up in a placating gesture.  “Sorry.  I just.  You look like crap and kinda look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“I feel more like I’m going to throw up.”

“Dude.”  Noya’s staring at him like he’s grown another head and with the way his head is throbbing he wouldn’t be surprised to discover his head is indeed splitting in two.  “Why are you here then?”

“Because things cost money and university isn’t for me.”

Noya leans a little closer and slowly slides the back of his hand against Kenma’s forehead.  “Things?”  He doesn’t flinch away this time and actually thinks a tiny sigh might slip from his lips at Noya’s cool touch before he suddenly shivers.

“Video games.  Food.  A place to live,” he answers, distracted by the way Noya blows his bangs out of his eyes and shakes his head slowly like he’s trying to piece together the puzzle that makes up Kenma.  He snorts.  Good luck with that.  Kuro’s known him for years and still can’t figure him out sometimes.

“Pretty sure you have a fever.  Is there anyone who can cover the rest of your shift for you?”

Shaking his head makes it throb harder so he simply makes a noise that he hopes Noya understands means no, he doesn’t have anyone to cover his shift which is why he is here in the first place instead of at home under his pile of blankets thank you very much, as he finally pulls his head away from Noya’s hand and settles it carefully against the cool glass counter.  He hears the door open but he’s so focused on keeping his stomach where it belongs that he doesn’t register Noya leaving his side until he’s coming back and gently pressing his hand against Kenma’s shoulder, murmuring quietly to him that he has a customer that would like to pay.  Kenma sits up slowly and gives Noya a halfhearted glare before taking the customer’s items and ringing them up.

This happens a few more times before Kenma finally gets his brain to come online enough to ask Noya what he’s still doing here.

“Just making sure you don’t pass out and get robbed or something.”

Kenma’s headache plagued brain, which he isn’t entirely sure isn’t starting to melt out his ears his head hurts so damn much right now, immediately slides to Kuro and he wonders if his best friend who is always worried, especially with Kenma being out on his own for the first time ever and Kuro not being just a few houses away to protect him, has anything to do with this.  It would be just like Kuro to get a friend to help keep an eye on Kenma though he would typically choose someone they both know.

He normally hates being babied like this, would pout about the way Noya takes over explaining that Kenma doesn’t feel good to his coworker when his shift ends and bristle when Noya asks if he can make it home by himself, but for whatever reason today he just doesn’t care.  He just wants to be home under his covers wrapped in the blissful nothingness of deep sleep.  He blames the strange feeling of not caring for being the reason he lets Noya convince him to let him put his number into Kenma’s phone - just in case he needs anything.

Noya doesn’t walk him home after he insists he’ll be fine.  He doesn’t insist that Kemna give him his number in return.  He just gives Kenma that vibrant sunny smile and says he’ll see him around.

 

 

The number sits in his phone, unused, for the next few weeks.  He doesn’t have another encounter with Noya and it it weren’t for Kuro joking that his “little Kenma made a new friend all on his own” he would almost wonder if Noya had even happened to him at all.

Noya happened to him.  Kenma snorts and lets his eyes glaze over a little as he grinds for experience in his game - thankfully it’s at a point where it doesn’t require a lot of his focus at the moment.  That’s an interesting way to think of it.  

It’s not necessarily wrong though.

Kenma doesn’t do new people well, barely handles the new customers at work each day sometimes, so the fact that in just a couple weeks and a few short interactions he wound up with a number in his phone that he isn’t entirely upset over having is actually rather impressive.  Hell even when they were kids took almost a month of Kuro’s determination to be friends before Kenma finally gave in because it was just too much effort to constantly brush him off.  But something about Noya captured Kenma’s attention.  He’s not sure if it was the way he seemed fearless, talking to strangers with ease, or the way he seemed to roll with the punches so easily, jumping right in with helping Kenma at the shop that day.  The way he was so casual about it all, not trying to get anything out of Kenma at all other than a few minutes of conversation and company.

Or maybe it’s just the way he feels a little like summer days and sunsets personified and, well, everyone knows how much Kenma loves that warmth.

He stands with a wince as his muscles stretch out and he glances at the clock: 3 AM.  He’s never more grateful he makes enough at the shop to live on his own than moments like these when he’s been gaming for hours on end at what most would consider ungodly times of the day and a roommate would surely get upset at him for foraging for food right now.  His mind briefly flickers to Kuro and he wonders if he’s figured out what he’s planning on doing about his roommate situation when he goes back to classes after the break.  If he found someone to room with or if he managed to get one of the more affordable single units near his university.

He sends off a quick text while he’s thinking about it, unworried about the time since he knows that Kuro has his text tone set to something quiet for late night texts like these but his actual ringtone is set so that if he were to call him Kuro would wake up within the first few rings.  Kuro can be a pretty awesome friend like that most of the time.

His fingers twitch and tap at the edge of his phone as he contemplates the newest contact in it.

Three seventeen in the morning isn’t exactly the ideal time to send a text to someone he hasn’t texted before, has barely even spoken to.  He knows next to nothing about Noya other than the random bits of information Noya had dropped in their largely one-sided conversations.  He shrugs and sends the text anyway.  Better to get some of his worst habits out in the open right away if Noya is serious about wanting to talk to him more.

Seven in the morning finds him curled up under his sheets blearily staring at his phone as he waits for Noya’s latest message, still surprised that he found someone who has sleeping habits that are nearly as bad as his own.

 

_ Nishinoya: well suns up so its time fr bed _

_ Nishinoya: thx fr keeping me compny!!!! _

_ Nishinoya: sleep well!!! _

 

Kenma smiles sleepily at his screen.

 

_ Me: ty for the company too _

_ Me: gn _

 

He falls asleep before his phone screen even shuts off.

  
  


 

Kenma snuggles himself deeper into the blanket he tugged off the back of his couch and watches from the corner of his eye while Noya pokes around his shelves before dropping onto the other end of the couch with a dramatic sigh.  A lot about Noya is dramatic and while drama is something Kenma does his best to avoid - having Kuro as his best friend is dramatic enough for him most of the time - Noya intrigues him.  Everything about him is flashy and loud.  From his brightly colored shock of bangs to his bizarre graphic tees - today’s is a fairly tame black one with ‘I woke up like this’ printed across the front of it - to the way he gestures while talking and laughs loud enough to make Kenma feel it in his bones.

“You’re so lucky you live alone,” Noya says.  “I have to meet my new roommate soon.”

“You haven’t met him yet?”  Kenma’s pretty sure there’s no way he could room with someone he hasn’t known for a few months at least.  There are too many things that could go wrong and he has too many habits and quirks that he’s pretty sure people would find frustrating.  Like his lack of a proper diet and his odd sleeping schedule and his ability to get so into a game that he loses an entire day and forgets to do laundry and dishes.

“Not yet.  He seems nice enough from the texts we’ve sent.  I’m sure we’ll get along great.”  He turns to Kenma with a grin.  “I mean who wouldn’t get along well with me?”

“You can be a lot to handle.”

“Excuse you I am a delight.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” Kenma mumbles into his blanket.  Noya beams at him.  

Then he starts talking about how he’s nervous about meeting his new potential roommate and Kenma lets the words wash over him.  He’s discovered over the last few months that when they’re together in person Noya doesn’t mind in the slightest that Kenma is quiet.  Even when they text Noya doesn’t complain about the gaps in conversation, the hours Kenma gets distracted with a game or book or just life in general and forgets that he hasn’t responded yet.  He’s not sure if it’s because Noya himself seems to have a similar attention span sometimes or if Noya, like Kuro, just has an usually high level of patience for him.

Along with knowing that he doesn’t mind the silence Kenma finds it absolutely fascinating to watch Noya talk.  He’ll go from grand gestures and exaggerated motions to thoughtfully pursing his lips and wrinkling his forehead, voice rising and falling in a somehow gentle cadence that was already a familiar one.  It was like when Kuro used to drag him to lakes and ponds when they were younger, the soft lapping of the water, waves rocking and splashing against themselves and washing over him with that calming sense of everything in the world being perfectly okay in that precise moment.

Everything about Noya is warm, it pulls at Kenma and draws him in, sinking itself under his skin until he is moving without even realizing it.  Until he is leaning forward still wrapped in his blanket and interrupting Noya’s sentence - something about bandages with character faces on them - with a kiss.

Noya takes the interruption in stride and barely even blinks before kissing him back.

  
  


 

Between listening to Kuro babbling about meeting his new roommate, Noya chattering away about his own new roommate, the heat and humidity starting to slink it’s way into the air like a cat with it’s belly to the ground, and the ever present whispers in the back of his mind - is he really doing what he should be, it’s not too late to sign up for classes - thanks to his trip home last week Kenma is pretty much at his wit’s end.  

He likes listening to Kuro and Noya both.  Well separately.  He kind of worries about the day the two of them finally meet and interact and he’ll be sure to have a lot of ice cream and apple pie hidden away for that day.  It just tends to get a bit overwhelming when he’s heard the same ramblings, with slight variations, from both of them a dozen times over the last couple days.  Especially since he thinks it’s silly because Kuro already knows that he and his new roommate will get along fine and Noya says he likes his new roommate, even if the guy is a little shy and quiet around him.  Which made Kenma laugh because, really, almost anyone is quiet compared to Noya in his most common state.

He likes the warm weather, much more than the cold that has him layering up and shivering despite it all, but he’s not as fond of having sweat collecting in the dip of his lower back when all he’s doing is sitting at the counter at work and slowly sorting through paperwork and fliers.  He likes being able to roll out of bed and have his only worry be if he needs an umbrella or jacket instead of having to check the temperature and debate how many layers to wear out that will inevitably be not enough no matter what.  Plus the warmer weather makes for much more ideal warm napping conditions, which he loves.

He could honestly do without the doubting whispers that visiting his family leaves him with.  Higher education just isn’t for him.  He’s tried explaining that to his family.  Tried explaining that he enjoys his job and he makes enough to support himself and that’s what matters most to him.  But no matter how many words he manages to wrench out of himself they refuse to accept it.  He could be doing bigger and better things.  Could be Someone Important and have a Big Office and A Lot of Respect (the capital letters are always there in his mind when his parents talk about his - wasted - potential.)

All in all none of this stuff really bothers him or gets under his skin by themselves.  But when it’s all combined in a messy tangle of emotions he’s ready to scream.  Probably not literally because that is just not something he does.

Then again when he’s stuck in the steadily warming shop trying to sort through a three inch tall stack of papers and listening to one of their regulars, Lev, ramble on and on about something Kenma honestly stopped listening to ten minutes ago he does actually consider it for a moment.  Until one of the papers slices at his skin and he lets out a string of mumbled curses instead.

“You okay?”

Kenma sucks on the papercut with a scowl that Lev ignores as he folds his annoyingly long body down and hovers over Kenma.  Kenma’s scowl deepens as the bell over the shop door rings and he pulls his finger back from his lips to study the paper cut as a customer comes in to wander the aisles.

He stares at the tiny cut off and on the rest of the day.  Pulls and pinches at it and relishes the tiny twinge of pain that comes each time the thin red line appears across his finger and the tang of iron that stays on his tongue each time he licks the tiny drops from his skin.  He thinks about colorful bandages with character faces on them and warm lips that taste a little like soda no matter the time of day as his finger runs across the swollen pink line.

  
  


 

The blanket of humidity that is covering the town is slick against his skin, even inside the shop, and Kenma spends his afternoon with his eyes darting from his phone to the empty shop and back again, waiting for the rattling buzz of his phone on the glass countertop.

 

_ Noya: So its still cool if i come ovr right? _

_ Me:  yeah.  Kuro has his kids night at the center & tests to study fr _

_ Me: so im free all night _

 

His phone buzzes a few more times as the afternoon drags into evening, mostly inconsequential stuff about what they should have to eat and a text from Kuro double checking that Kenma would be okay without seeing Kuro for another week.  He tells Noya to get whatever he wants to bring over and tells Kuro that they are both adults who don’t need to see each other every week to survive.  As long as they still make it every couple of weeks they’ll be fine.

Honestly they’d be fine if they didn’t see each other for a month, scattered texts and Skype calls would be enough to keep their friendship strong, but he knows Kuro likes to feel like Kenma’s not completely out of his reach.

As the clock ticks steadily onward Kenma starts growing impatient.  It’s a new feeling for him since  outside of waiting for a new video game he’s been wanting to come out it never really happens.  Even the impatience for a new game isn’t quite like this.  Because he’s not entirely sure just  _ what _ it is he’s impatient for as he watches the minutes slide by.  There’s a feeling under his skin that’s almost painful, but he can’t really place what it is or why it aches so much.  It reminds him a little of the growing pains he got when he was younger - that aching in his bones that nothing would help - though he was lucky and didn’t have them nearly as long as Kuro did.

He can remember lying in bed with his friend, warm under his blankets with the heat of their backs pressed together, and listening to Kuro wallow in misery about how his body would never stop aching.

“Then just stop growing,” Kenma had said one day.  “That will fix it.”

Kuro had laughed, not the annoyingly endearing donkey bray he had even as a kid, but that soft kind one that Kenma has always known means that Kuro is finding him adorable in some way.

“Not all of us are destined to be tiny all our lives, Kenma.  Someone’s gotta grow up and take care of you.”

Kenma quietly snorts as the door jingles and his replacement walks in.  If either of them really grew up in the years since then he’s pretty sure it was him and not Kuro.  But the taking care of each other has always been pretty mutual.

 

 

Somehow he had known it would come to this.  Not necessarily  _ this _ exactly.  But Kenma had known that Noya would burrow past his defenses somehow.  That from the moment Kenma had paused at the end of the aisle that day, had broken his routine of just keeping his eyes down and not talking to strangers, and had voiced his opinion for Noya to hear his life was already changing to accept Noya in it.  Everything since then had just been a series of strings going taut as events fell into place and now they’re caught in a web with each other and Kenma’s really not sure which of them has truly captured the other.

Not that either of them were really trying to capture anything.

Not that it matters much.

Nothing much outside of the two of them matters when they’re pressed together with fingers scrabbling for purchase against sweat slicked skin.

“Kenma,” Noya hisses as Kenma’s nails leave red crescents on his hip.  Kenma barely pauses.  His breath is shallow but his heart is beating steadily.  It makes his limbs feel heavy with a heat that he’s come to love over the last couple years.  He licks his lips and tastes the sweat there, his and Noya’s both mingling on his tongue, and he grins, a quick upturn of his lips that makes Noya suck in a breath before Kenma dips his head again and presses a kiss to Noya’s thigh.

When he let Noya into his apartment earlier that night and watched him slip out of his shoes, carefully balancing the boxes of takeout in his arms with a grin, he had somehow known that they’d wind up naked by the end of the night.  He’s not even sure why, but somewhere in the back of his mind he had known.

It had actually only taken a half hour.  Long enough to get the takeout in the fridge and Noya pinned to the couch.

Sex is not new to him.  Despite the effort involved and the messiness of the act he actually enjoys it.  It definitely helps the enjoyment that Noya is an enthusiastic partner, happily shedding his clothes and helping Kenma remove his own once he realized where their heated kisses and roaming hands were leading.  Neither of them are inexperienced, either, which is nice.  There’s no fumbling, no awkward pauses where they’re not sure what to do.  There’s just Kenma learning which places to kiss and where to dig his fingers in to make Noya squirm and gasp.  Noya learning how far to arch his back and when to dig his nails into Kenma’s arm to make Kenma’s eyes light up in appreciation.

Kenma doesn’t even hesitate when he draws Noya into his mouth; a conversation a few weeks ago about past relationships and experiences had led to Noya bluntly declaring himself one hundred percent clean and Kenma still isn’t entirely sure how their discussion of the best place in town for ramen turned to that subject.  But he’s glad it did now, since it means he can completely ignore Noya’s stilted attempt to ask if he is sure and watch the way Noya’s breath catches in his throat as he shudders, muscles going taut and then lax under Kenma’s fingers.

“Fuck, Kenma,” Noya groans when Kenma hums, lips stretched around him.  He pulls off with a kiss to the tip.

“That’s the plan.”  He pauses.  “Unless you have other ideas?” 

“No you fucking me is definitely a damn nice idea,” Noya says when Kenma comes back from the bedroom a couple minutes later.

“Such language,” Kenma says, tossing a condom packet at Noya’s face when he laughs.

“You were the one who, just last week, told me your game was, and I quote, ‘being a fucking piece of shit’ and making you die and play that ‘son of a fucking bitch whiny ass boss’ for the tenth time that day.”  Noya grins and playfully shoves Kenma onto his back on the couch cushions, plucking the lube bottle from his fingers before Kenma can drop it.  “You have a bit of a dirty mouth sometimes.”

“Seeing as how my mouth was just-” Kenma hisses in a breath when Noya leans over him and nips at his collarbone, voice starting to drop as he watches Noya reach back to prep himself, “on your dick.  You…” Kenma takes a deep breath and freezes when Noya looks up at him, eyes gleaming and cheeks flushed.  “Fuck.”

“That’s the plan,” Noya says, a little breathless as he finally slips his fingers out of himself and absently wipes them on his thigh.  He rips open the packet and slides the condom onto Kenma with a grin.

The world doesn’t change when Noya slowly sinks onto him.  His life doesn’t suddenly shift into perfect clarity.  He’s still just a guy who works in a halfway decent used media shop for halfway decent pay with a halfway decent apartment.  But that’s all perfectly fine for him.  Because he’s here right now with Noya shuddering above him, cheeks flushed and sweaty skin glowing in the late evening light filtering through Kenma’s windows.

He lost his hair tie at some point after Noya came through his door - probably around the time Noya had tugged Kenma’s shirt over his head and pulled him down for a kiss that left them both panting against each other’s lips - and now he can feel the long strands sticking to his chest and neck.  Normally he hates having his hair down during sex.  The hairs tickling against his skin and sticking to his chest and back tend to drive him to the point of distraction and he’s about to ask Noya for a quick break to fix it when Noya curls down and slides a hand around the back of Kenma’s neck.  He gathers as much of Kenma’s hair in his hand as he can and uses it to tug Kenma’s head to the side so he can bury his face against Kenma’s neck and suck a bruise into the skin there and, well, that’s a perfectly acceptable alternative to a hair tie in Kenma’s mind.

Kenma hisses and tilts his hips up to keep their rhythm without losing any contact, stretching and flexing as Noya does his best to concentrate on leaving a series of marks down Kenma’s throat, breath hitching and fingers tightening in Kenma’s long hair when Kenma settles his hands on Noya’s slender hips and digs his fingers in hard.

It’s not earth shattering.  It’s not a religious experience.  The sun doesn’t break across Noya’s skin like a spotlight and touch the dips and lines of his muscles like a lover’s caress.  

It’s hot and sweaty.  It’s Noya’s words dropping out until all Kenma hears is half formed syllables and heavy grunts and groans.  It’s sweat sliding down the back of his knee.  It’s Noya’s fingers tangling his hair into knots and his nails leaving angry red crescents against Noya’s thighs.  It’s damp air between their chests and the sloppy slide of their lips against each other as they lose focus on everything but the sensations building until they burst: Noya with shuddering groan and Kenma with a high whine.

 

Noya’s breath is hot against Kenma’s skin and they’re sticky every place they touch.

 

They eat lukewarm takeout, both too hungry to let it fully reheat, and let Kenma’s living room grow dark around them as they sit in warm silence.

  
  


 

“I like the guy, I really do.  But he’s so quiet and jumpy.”  Noya props his chin on the shops glass counter and pouts up at Kenma.  “Am I  _ really _ that loud of a person?”

Kenma’s eyes slide to the only customer currently in the shop and, upon finding her securely zoned in on the used RPG games, slides his gaze back to Noya.  Who grins sheepishly at Kenma’s “are you really serious right now” stare.

“Noya,” Kenma says, voice low, calm, and matter of fact, “the only time you’re really quiet is when we have sex and then you pass out.”

Noya gasps loudly, chin pressing into the counter and top of his head rising comically.  Then he makes a shrugging motion that Kenma can’t quite actually see.

“Okay I can’t even be all that offended since it’s true.”

The customer brings her choice up to the counter and Kenma spends a couple minutes quietly discussing the game with her before sending her on her way with her purchase and a slip of paper with links to some good online class guides for it before he settles himself back at the counter.  He and Noya sit in the silence for a few minutes, sweat collecting along their collars and sliding down their backs in the humidity that even the air conditioner in the store couldn’t quite eliminate.

“You know,” Noya hums and Kenma smiles.  Noya really can’t stay quiet for long and while he would have once thought that quality would annoy the hell out of him most of what Noya says is fairly entertaining.  Or maybe it’s entertaining because it’s Noya saying it.  He hasn’t really spent too much time dwelling on his exact feelings about Noya.  “Asahi’s not a bad guy.  His boyfriend - Daichi - is pretty decent too.  Could have gone without walking in on them making out in the kitchen with their hands in each other’s pants but whatever.”  Noya starts chewing on his lip and his eyes dart up to Kenma.  “Am I a hard person to get along with?  I mean I feel like Asahi doesn’t like me sometimes and I don’t wanna run him off.  I really do like being his roommate.  I just don’t know how to handle someone so, I dunno, fragile?  Ugh not fragile he’s not glass but he’s so pure feeling?  It’s hard to describe.”

Kenma watches Noya.  Takes in the way he keeps fidgeting with a piece of paper next to his chin, the way his shoulders are hunched towards his ears, the way his eyes keep flickering between Kenma and the wall behind him.

He isn’t the best when it comes to this stuff.  The whole reassuring people thing.

But hadn’t he thought something similar when he first met Noya?  That Noya would be hard to get along with?  Too loud and wild and  _ there _ in a way that set his nerves on edge?

“You can be a lot to take in at first,” Kenma finally says, ignoring Noya’s instinctual snicker at the unintentional double entendre but glad to hear the sound.  Even in introspection Noya sees the humor in things.  Which is just another thing about him that Kenma has come to appreciate.

 

Appreciate.  Not love.  Adore maybe.  But not love.  Not yet.

 

“You’re energetic.  Vibrant.”  Noya straightens up as Kenma keeps talking.  “Getting to know you is like getting used to the seasons changing.  It takes a little while to happen but before you know it you don’t even realize it’s happening anymore.”  Kenma drops his eyes to Noya’s reflection in the glass, smudged by fingerprints, and smiles.  “Then you just wake up one day and it’s summer.”

 

Kenma loves summer.  Even with all it’s stickiness and close heat.

  
  


 

_ Noya | •́ ◇ •̀ |: hey Asahi’s having a shit day and i’m not helping any _

_ Noya | •́ ◇ •̀ |: can i come over? _

_ Me: of course _

 

Kenma frowns at Noya’s message.  He must really be feeling really shitty if he’s using full words.  For all he claims that Asahi is the gentle, glass-hearted one Noya himself is more often than not just as upset over whatever happens as Asahi is.  Or isn’t.  Kenma hasn’t actually met Asahi face to face so he only knows what Noya has told him and he has, on more than one occasion, wondered if it’s just as much Noya being worried about upsetting his roommate as it is his roommate actually being upset.  Noya is much sweeter and much more observant and sensitive about thing than he likes to let on.

Though Kenma can’t say much.  He’s a lot like that too.  Something Kuro likes to remind him of whenever he gets the chance.

He uncurls from the corner of the couch and grimaces at the sweat gathered at the back of his knees.  He wonders how Kuro’s doing.  His best friend never did handle the hot weather that well.  It made him jumpy and irrational sometimes and it was usually only in the hottest parts of summer that Kenma could get Kuro to do almost nothing for hours on end and just curl up with him and watch dumb movies or play video games.  Any other time Kuro wanted to be outside playing in the sun.

Kenma absently pulls his hair out of it’s bun and ties it back up in easy motions as he remembers summers spent with his best friend.

He’s in the middle of remembering the week Kuro had decided he was going to live under Kenma’s bed when Noya knocks on his door.

“I fucked up.”  Is all he says when Kenma opens the door.

Kenma doesn’t respond.  He simply returns to the living room and drops onto the couch cushions.  It only takes Noya a few minutes to slip out of his shoes, drop his bag off in Kenma’s room, and join him on the couch.  It’s hot and sticky, even with the shades drawn and the a/c unit running, but Kenma doesn’t mind it.  He likes the way Noya’s arm sticks to his bare stomach as he settles himself, the almost stifling heat of Noya pressed against him and his hair tickling the sweaty underside of Kenma’s jaw as Kenma turns on his handheld and loads his saved game.  He knows that Noya will talk to him when, and if, he’s ready to.

It’s almost an hour in before Noya finally starts to tell him about the fight he and Asahi had. Halting words about Asahi worrying about his upcoming test and his grades and feeling pressured by his parents hadn’t mixed well with Noya’s unnerving enthusiasm and unwavering confidence that Asahi would be perfectly fine and had wound up with explosive results.  No one was hurt but they would need a new broom and were down a couple of glasses that had been knocked off the counter.

“He’s never gonna talk to me again,” Noya whines.

“Not true,” Kenma replies without hesitation.  He hums and saves his game, movements slow as he tries to figure out how to handle Noya’s mood.  Most of it has already passed just by Noya being able to talk through what happened and get the worry out of his system and Kenma’s glad for that.  He’s not really all that good at comfort.

“Totally true.  I am a horrible person.  Asahi is a sweetheart and I got in a fight with him.”

He settles his handheld on the floor and runs his hand down Noya’s side.

“Give him a little time.  You said his boyfriend was coming over, right?”  Noya nods.  “Then he will talk to Asahi and then when you go back in a couple days you guys will as good as always.”

“Is that my invitation to stay here a couple days?”

“More like permission for something you’ve already decided to do.”  Noya huffs against his throat and Kenma taps his fingers against Noya’s side.  “I saw the bag you dragged off to my room,” he teases.

“Well I can go somewhere else if you don’t want me here.  You know that.”

And that’s just one more thing that makes Kenma adore Noya even more: the fact that Noya knows he needs that space sometimes.  That being around  _ anyone  _ is too much sometimes, no matter who it is.  But Noya is getting in more and more of Kenma’s spaces - or more like Kenma is letting Noya into more of his spaces - and, just like summer, he’s finding he doesn’t mind the lingering heat all that much.

“I wouldn’t have let you in if I didn’t want you here.”

Noya sits up and settles himself on Kenma’s hips, hand wrapped around the back of Kenma’s neck warm and sure and secure as he leans down until their noses brush.

“I know.”  The words settle between their lips on a warm breath.  “Thank you.”  Kenma isn’t sure if he’s being thanked for letting Noya into his apartment or his life or his thoughts.  But the specifics don’t really matter much.  Especially not when Noya’s lips settle against his own.

Kenma yawns in the middle of their kiss and Noya laughs against his lips.

“Come on.  You’ve probably been up playing games since like two in the morning or something.  Lets get to bed.”

“You just wanna get me naked.”  He lets Noya tug him to his feet and pull him to his room with a laugh.

“You’re already halfway there all on your own mister I don’t need a shirt cause I’m so unfairly attractive.”

“If that’s the case then you shouldn’t need to wear a shirt either.”

Noya’s grin reflects the light in the hallway, knife sharp with a wicked edge to it.  “I like the way you think.”

 

 

He only realizes Noya gets out of bed in the most vaguest of sensations, mostly the loss of the warm skin pressed against his, and he makes a mostly asleep half-hearted attempt to reach out for him.  They had stayed up well into the night having sex and curling up together talking and Kenma’s pretty sure he’s only been asleep a couple hours because once Noya drifted off his mind had started wandering and he went back out and dug his handheld from under the couch and played in bed with Noya curled into him until after sunrise.

Noya’s talking softly and then the door shuts and Kenma drifts back into a warm sleep.  If it was anything important Noya would have woken him completely.

 

“So,” Noya says when Kenma is settled in his lap on the couch after a very late lunch, “I answered your phone earlier.  It was Kuroo.”

Kenma tenses, automatically expecting the worst but knowing that if it was something really serious Noya wouldn’t have waited to tell him.  “Okay?  And?”

“Well apparently your best friend made out with my roommate’s boyfriend’s best friend and was freaking out about it because he thought my roommate’s boyfriend was dating his best friend.”

“Names, Noya.  Please.”

“Kuroo made out with Suga.  Who is Daichi’s best friend.  Daichi who is dating my roommate Asahi.”

“And Kuro thought Daichi was dating this Suga person?”

“Apparently.  And he was upset.  But I talked to him and told him that Daichi and Suga totally weren’t dating so he was free to go make out with Suga as much as he wanted.”

 

 

Sometimes Kenma wonders about his choice of best friends.  Not that becoming Kuro’s best friend was really a choice per se.  Kuro had kind of dropped into his life when they were kids and refused to leave no matter what Kenma had said or done.  They had wound up on a lot of strange adventure as kids thanks to Kuro’s insistence that he get Kenma out to “explore the world” and all that nonsense.  Kenma snorts to himself and shakes his head when Noya glances up at him from where he has his cheek pressed into Kenma’s stomach.

Right now Kenma is listening to Kuro whine from his spot on the floor about how Kenma kept Noya a secret from him and wasn’t he supposed to be Kenma’s best friend and be told stuff like this and how could Kenma not trust him with this information he’s been in this serious relationship thing for months now and didn’t say anything to him?  Kuro’s whine climbs to a volume that makes Noya wince and Kenma sighs.

“Noya?  You wondered last week how it is that I can handle your volume?”  Kenma gestures to Kuro.  “Practice.”

Noya snickers and Kuro sits up with an offended gasp that Kenma might have believed if they hadn’t been friends for so long.

“Kenma!  That hurts.”  Kuro slaps a hand over his chest.  “That hurts me right here.  Where I feel things.”

Kenma lets his eyes drift from the obvious hickey on Kuro’s neck down to his crotch and then back to the game he had been playing on his handheld before Kuro started being dramatic.

“As opposed to other places you,” he clears his throat, “ _ feel _ things.”

Kuro gasps again and points an accusing finger at Noya.  “You’re corrupting my sweet innocent Kenma.  What have you done to my best friend?”

Noya snorts, breath warm against Kenma’s stomach.  “Dude I have done a lot of things to your best friend and believe me he’s not exactly the most innocent.  He comes up with most of it.”

Kuro whines and rolls onto his stomach so he can bury his face in his arms.

“I don’t wanna hear this.  I don’t wanna hear this.”

“Believe me,” Noya continues with a look up at Kenma to make sure it was okay to drop something they had done into Kuro’s lap.  Kenma shrugs and nods, he and Kuro never really kept any secrets if they actually asked each other something and it’s not like he was embarrassed by anything sexual he and Noya had done.  “I was not the one who suggested the quickie in the backroom where they work when it was quiet one day.”  Kuro whimpers from the floor.  “Though I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

“I did not need to know this about my best friend.”

“I mean.  It was a  _ really _ good time.  But, yeah dude, no.  I am not corrupting Kenma.”

Kuro peeks over and Kenma shrugs.  His face is a little flushed as Noya tosses out a few other random things they’ve done and Kuro gapes at him but other than that he simply holds Kuro’s gaze until Noya is done.

“It’s always the quiet ones,” Noya finishes knowingly as he winks at Kuro.

Now Kuro is the one that’s blushing and Kenma raises an eyebrow at him.

“Problem Kuro?”

“I just…  I never expected you to… when did you get like this?”

“Just because I'm quiet and don't brag about everything I do doesn't mean I don't have a fulfilling sex life Kuroo.  Honestly we're not twelve anymore."

“Yeah I know.  But it’s just hard to remember that sometimes when I’ve known you practically my whole life.  It’s hard not to picture that little twelve year old with scraped knees when I see rugburns on your knees now and no I do not need to know what you were doing to get those.”  Kuro stares pointedly at Noya.

“Oh, Kuro.  You’re so innocent.”

Kuro blushes again and huffs.  “Hey I’ve had sex plenty of times with different people.  I’m not inexperienced you know.”

“No.  But you’re still so innocent somehow.  How does Suga handle you?”

“He handles me perfectly well thank you very much.”

Noya snickers against Kenma’s stomach.  “Oh I bet he does.”

 

 

Noya is holding a box of hair dye in each hand and flickering his gaze from each one and then up to Kenma and back again.

“No,” Kenma says before Noya can even begin to ask whatever ridiculous question is on his mind today.

“Please?  Just one little strip?  We could match.”

“You are not dying an entire strip of my hair every time you dye your own.”

Kenma reaches up and grabs his own box of hair dye and drops it into his basket, steeling himself for the pleading gaze he knows Noya will be directing at him.

“Full strip once and then just touch ups to the root with whatever color I go with next?  I promise I won’t choose dumb colors that look bad together.  You’d look so awesome with a rainbowy stripe.”  Kenma does his best to avoid Noya’s eyes, looking past him to the long shelf of colorful choices before sighing.

“You can do it once.  And if I don’t like it we never do it again.”

Noya is nodding before Kenma even finishes talking, like he already knew that he was going to give in and what the terms would be.  

“Deal!”

That evening summer sunshine smile washes over Kenma and he basks in the glow as Noya hooks their elbows together and leads them to the checkout, already talking about the new game he wants to watch Kenma play that night after they dye their hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](http://ezzydean.tumblr.com).


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